Red Water
by Bailadora
Summary: This had to be the worst day Temperance had ever had. Major angst.


This was by far the worst day Temperance had ever had.

It was worse than when she had been buried alive. It was worse than when Booth had been held hostage. It was worse than when she found out that her father was a murder. And it was even worse than when she had been informed that her mother was dead.

The problem was – she didn't even know what was wrong.

She hadn't had a new case that day. Her latest – one involving an elderly couple found dead in their bed – had been relatively normal. Certainly she had been faced with more emotionally challenging cases in the past. She and Angela were still the best of friends. And she and Booth hadn't fought at all that day.

So what was wrong? 

It was obvious that the carton of Ben and Jerry's wasn't going to answer her question.

She stared at the empty container with a swelling pain building behind her eyes and finally stood to go to the kitchen to put her things away. The carton was thrown away and the spoon tossed in the sink, which was already overflowing with dirty dishes.

Temperance let her feet carry her away from the kitchen. They took her to the bathroom.

Without hesitation she pulled her blouse and flung aside in a heap. The beads she wore around her neck came next. A few of them shattered as they hit the floor. Temperance didn't seem to notice. She stepped out of her skirt, reached back to undo her bra, and stripped of her panties. Goosebumps covered her body almost instantly.

She moved to the side of the tub and ran the water. Not caring that it was still cold, she stepped in. With a sigh of relief she lowered her naked frame into the water.

How did that poem go? Something about not across the street, but up and down it? She couldn't remember. And it didn't really matter anyway.

When the water had nearly overflowed over the side, Temperance turned off the faucet and picked up her razor.

XxXxX

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Booth didn't know what it was. He didn't even know how he knew that something wasn't right.

He just did.

He was in his car. He was speeding. He was in his car, speeding towards Bones's place.

Bones.

His stomach lurched uneasily. Yes, something was wrong with Bones, that much he was sure of.

But what?

He wasn't sure.

She appeared normal at work that day. Well, as normal as Bones could ever be. But something had been off. Not right.

And now he had a feeling he was too late.

XxXxX

A gasp escaped Temperance's lips as she made the first cut. Blood swelled up, forming small drops on her wet wrist.

She yearned for Booth. Booth who had always been there to rescue her before, Booth who would never let anyone hurt her, Booth who was always there no matter what.

But he wasn't here now.

And he couldn't save her from herself.

The small voice in her head that always told her right from wrong – the voice that had never stopped talking to her before – was suddenly mute. It had nothing to say to her anymore, nothing to keep her from hurting herself. It couldn't even tell her why she was doing this, why when she had such a great life, an amazing job, and fantastic friends. Why, when she had so many things in life yet to experience. Why, when she had Booth.

Why?

With the voice quieted there was nothing to stop her, nothing to reason with. Temperance was gone.

She raised the razor to her skin once again.

XxXxX

Booth smashed his fist into the horn when the light turned green. There were so many idiots out here today. The car in front of him leapt to a start and the driver flashed him the bird.

Usually Booth would've cared.

Not today.

He just wanted to see Bones. To hold her in his arms – not only to assure himself that she was fine, but to comfort her as well. At this point he didn't even care that they were nothing more than partners, than friends.

And right now, something was wrong.

He could feel it. It filled his entire body. No, not filled.

Drained.

Something was being drained out of him. He wasn't yet sure as to what it was, only that it had to do with Bones.

And that he didn't like it.

He slammed on the brakes outside her house. It looked the same as usual: the flowers neatly pruned, the birdbath full of fresh water and the birds singing cheerfully. But there was something missing. He threw open the door to the car, jumped out and sprinted up to the house. He smashed through the door without knocking.

Bones wasn't in the living room.

She wasn't in the kitchen either.

A hollow sort of sound came from the bathroom, the door to which was closed.

"Oh god, Bones. What have you done?"

He shouldered the door aside.

No amount of training, on amount of fieldwork, no amount of experience could have prepared him for what he found.

Bones lay face-up in the bathtub. Only the water wasn't clear. It was red. Her head lolled down onto her bare chest and her usually lively blue eyes were closed. A bloodied razor floated beside her.

Booth never cried. It wasn't something FBI agents did.

He was crying now.

He silently made his way over to the side of the tub, careful to step around her forgotten clothes. He noted the broken beads with a heavy heart. Angela had helped him pick them out for her birthday. Once he was kneeling beside the tub, his tears still falling freely, he grabbed one arm out of the water. Her wrist was crisscrossed with bloody slits. They were deeper than he ever would have imagined her capable of.

He held his breath as her small hand stayed limp in his own.

There was a pulse.

Booth slipped off his shoes and pulled his cell out of the pocket of his pants. He flipped it opened and pressed three buttons.

"I need an ambulance." He choked out the address.

Then, with his clothes still on, he stepped into the water, not caring in the least about the effect the blood would have. He lowered himself down behind his partner and laid her back down on his chest. With her finally close to him, he wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her close to him, rocking them gently.

"It's gonna be fine. Everything is going to be fine."

XxXxX

A/N: I personally don't think Temperance is going to try to off herself anytime soon, so I have no idea where the idea for this came from. Also, if you are going to flame, please do so with proper grammar.

With that said, all characters belong to Fox. Not me.

6/12/07: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm working on a sequel, as this is too much angst for me to handle.


End file.
